


The Kings, Dwalin and Dis

by jaydee09



Series: Two Kings [18]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Dog-in-the-manger possessiveness, F/M, M/M, Manipulations, Straight Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 03:14:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2606378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaydee09/pseuds/jaydee09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In my previous story, The Kings and Lady Dis, an angry Dis has tried to cause a rift between Thorin and Thranduil.  Now she is escaping to the Iron Hills for a while with Dwalin as her escort.  Will it occur to Dwalin that, if he can’t have Thorin, then the king’s sister might be almost as good?</p>
<p>This can be read as a complete stand-alone in my Thorinduil series but, if you want to start at the beginning, then the first is King of the Antlered Throne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kings, Dwalin and Dis

 

The Kings, Dwalin and Dis

 

Pt I

 

Return to the Mountain

 

The trip to visit Dain had not been as successful as they had hoped.  Both Dwalin and Dis had wanted to escape from Thorin: Dis, because she had betrayed her brother and couldn’t face the consequences; Dwalin, because the magnetic attraction of his king was just too compelling and he needed a break from its pull for a time.

 

But, both of them had forgotten the discomforts of the Iron Hills: neither had been there since Dain had extended a helping hand to them after their flight from Smaug.  It was a cold, grey, hard-scrabble sort of place and they remembered why Thorin had wanted to move on as quickly as possible after their initial generous reception there all those years ago.

 

Dis admitted to herself that she had had an ulterior motive when it first occurred to her that she should escape from her brother’s wrath by going home via the Iron Hills.  She was lonely – and had been lonely too long.  She had lost her husband and her sons to war and her brother to an elven king: rather than sit and brood and think up destructive plans, perhaps she should be proactive in finding her own happiness.  She vaguely remembered Dain as being a fine warrior and, when she had come to this place, she had been willing to see him as a potential husband.  But, she had met with disappointment: he had not aged well and the way he had kissed her hand and touched her and leered at her had made her flesh crawl.  In the end, making her peace with Thorin back in Erebor had seemed a better alternative.

 

Dwalin had initially enjoyed getting away from Thorin and Erebor: seeing his king with Thranduil on a daily basis when the elf visited and being made so aware of their love for each other was very painful for one whose passionate constancy to his king dominated every thought.  And he had always enjoyed the company of Dis.  But, after the comforts and the luxury of the Lonely Mountain, the Iron Hills seemed a wretched place and Dain, he concluded, was an old fart.  Moreover, forgetting Thorin had been impossible: every time he looked into Dis’ startlingly blue eyes or, walking behind her, saw all those dark curls tumbling down her back, he thought of Thorin.  In the end, totally resigned to the misery of his love for his king, he realised that it was time to go home.

 

They were a day out from Erebor and had camped for the night.  They had eaten rabbit stew and were now sitting over the fire, sipping strong dwarven beer from a stoppered jug.

 

Dis glanced up anxiously.  “Will he forgive me, Dwalin, do you think?”

 

“Yes, they both will,” smiled the big dwarf reassuringly.  “Their love for each other has made them kind.  They understand your loss and Thorin is full of guilt.  He needs your forgiveness as much as you need his.”

 

“Do you think I should just say sorry and then go home?” she continued.  “I would like to stay in Erebor for a time.  I have no-one back in Ered Luin, now that you and Balin and Thorin are gone, and I feel very isolated and lonely.  If I still had a husband, it would be different.”

 

Dwalin let out a snort of laughter.  “Is that why you were giving Dain the once over?”

 

“Was it so obvious?” she grinned.  “I’m desperate, but not that desperate.  He’s a bit of an old goat, isn’t he?  But I was hoping for a great warrior from the royal house of Durin – an older version of his rather delightful son – and I was very disappointed.”

 

“Yes, his son, Young Thorin, is a fine heir to the throne of Erebor.  Our king has struck lucky there.  But, surely you can do better than Dain, a beautiful woman like you?”

 

Dis blushed.  “Do you really think I’m beautiful?  I’m getting older, you know.”

 

Dwalin put an arm around her shoulders and she leant against him.  “Of course you’re beautiful.  You look a lot like Thorin and he’s the best-looking dwarf I’ve ever seen.”  He gave her a squeeze.  “Don’t worry.  There are plenty of potential suitors out there.  You’ll find someone in the end.”  And they sat quietly in front of the fire for a while until it was time to sleep.

 

.o00o.

 

Well, Dwalin slept, wrapped up in his bed roll; but Dis lay, wide awake and staring at the stars.  She wasn’t thinking of her dead husband or her sons; nor was she thinking of Thorin and Thranduil.  She was thinking of how warm and comforted and protected she had felt within the circle of Dwalin’s arms.  Moreover, he had smelled nice too – a stirring, virile smell of sweat and leather and horses.  And he had felt so strong.  He had been right under her nose all these years and she hadn’t given him any thought – until now!

 

She could hear him snoring and she slid out from her bed roll; then she crawled around the fire and, lifting the edge of his blanket, she slipped in behind him, cuddling into his back.  He was shirtless but burned like a furnace and his warmth was something to be shared and enjoyed.  Her hand edged around his waist and gently explored his muscular chest. He was so BIG – built like a brick shit-house, as she remembered her brother describing him once.  And she smiled with pleasure.  How wonderful to have such hairy, well-muscled flesh beneath her hand once more.  She sighed as she remembered those passionate years with Vili and decided that she definitely wanted such moments back again.

 

Very cautiously, her hand edged inside his waistband – well, a girl needed to know what she was letting herself in for, didn’t she?  He was already partly aroused, perhaps subconsciously aware of the soft body that pressed against his back.  She began to squeeze and fondle him and then became quite startled when his cock suddenly sprang into life.  _By Mahal!_ she thought.   _You need to be quite a woman to take on that………..or at least one who has had several children, like me._ And she grinned to herself as she thought that this might prove to be quite a satisfying encounter.

 

Suddenly, Dwalin’s own hand snaked out and grasped her by the wrist.  “What on Middle-earth do you think you’re doing, Dis?” he hissed.

 

“Making us both happy?” she suggested.

 

He turned over to face her and glared into her eyes which were shining a deep cobalt blue in the dying light of the fire.  Only one other person that he knew had eyes like that; and he was having trouble looking away.

 

“Why me?” he growled.  “Because I’m better than Dain? Better than nothing?”

 

“No,” she said softly in that dark, melodious voice that also reminded him of Thorin’s.  “It’s because I have suddenly realised that you are better than any other dwarf I know – except, perhaps, my brother.”

 

This further comparison with Thorin twisted at his heart.  Was this a way to escape the hold that his king had over him?  If he couldn’t have the brother, then perhaps he could fall in love with the sister.

 

“So, what shall we do about it?” he asked gruffly.

 

“Take off all our clothes?” she laughed.  “Snuggle down under this blanket?  Make passionate love?”

 

He cleared his throat.  “I should warn you that I’ve never had a woman before.  So, if that’s a problem for you, we’d better stop here.”

 

“Well, I must admit that it doesn’t surprise me,” she said.  And it didn’t – not with the shortage of dwarven women and knowing how Dwalin had dedicated all his time and his life to the House of Durin.  And this big dwarf had always been such a prude when they were young together, dragging her and Thorin and Frerin away when they had curiously tried to peer into brothels.  “Come out of there!” he had ordered.  “Or I shall tell your father and _then_ you’ll be in trouble.”  Far from being the debauched crew that she had told stories about to Thranduil, it was because of the upright Dwalin that they had all been as pure as the driven snow.  And she suddenly felt aroused at the thought that Dwalin was a virgin.

 

She ran a gentle finger down his cheek.  “Come on,” she said.  “Let’s try it.  I shan’t hold you to it if you don’t like it,” she added with a half-smile.  And then she began to wriggle out of her clothes whilst Dwalin undid his breeches with nervous fingers.

 

Well, Dis enjoyed it.  It was her first sexual encounter in years and Dwalin had a great body and a big, satisfying cock.  And his technique wasn’t half as clumsy as she had expected.  Dwalin, however, wasn’t so sure.  In a way, he felt as if he were betraying Thorin.  He had given all his love to his king and now he was sleeping with his sister.  And, at the end of the day, his preference was not to fill a woman with his cock but to have a certain cock fill him.

 

“That was good,” said Dis with a long sigh.  “But it will get better.”  And she snuggled up to him and went to sleep.  And perhaps it would, he thought.  If he yearned for love, then he really ought to give this affair with Dis a reasonable try.

 

.o00o.

 

Some distance away in Erebor, Thranduil was climbing swiftly out of his clothing.  He had been pacifying Thorin for two weeks now by agreeing to be on the bottom, but, tonight, it was finally his turn to be on top.  He flung his robes to one side and lay down naked on the bed.

 

Thorin shook his head and grinned in amusement.  It was obvious how much the elf was looking forward to things – in more ways than one.  And he grabbed the hem of his shirt, preparing to rip it off over his head.

 

“No, stop,” said Thranduil abruptly.  Thorin lowered his shirt and looked quizzically at the elf.

 

“You don’t want me to undress?” he asked.

 

“Yes, but slowly…….very slowly,” was the response.  And he gave a feline smile like a great cat.

 

Thorin squirmed a little.  He didn’t like to flaunt his body, not even to Thranduil.  Nor was he vain enough to think his body worth flaunting.  To him, the elf was beautiful: his own body was thick and hairy – perhaps even a little ugly.  And he was uncertain enough about his own beauty to wonder whether, if Thranduil had time for a good enough stare, he might be repulsed rather than attracted. He liked the lights off or, if they were on, he preferred a quick strip followed by a speedy leap beneath the sheets.

 

“Really?” he asked tentatively.

 

“Yes,” purred Thranduil.  “And,” he added, as he saw the dwarf’s eyes dart towards the bedside lamp, “I want the lights left on.”

 

Thorin gave a resigned sigh and his hands went to the top buttons of his shirt.

 

“Slower!” ordered Thranduil sharply as he attempted to hurry down the front, hoping that the elf wouldn’t notice.  And so, Thorin was obliged to slow right down.  But, even this wasn’t slow enough for the elf who suddenly shouted “stop!” again after he had undone four of the buttons.  Then the elf savoured the sight of the dwarf’s chest hair beginning to peek around the edge of the linen before gesturing him to carry on.

 

This time he allowed Thorin to reach the bottom.  “Now what?” asked the dwarf.

 

“Open it a bit,” he murmured huskily, sliding a hand between his thighs and soothing his aching cock with oiled fingers.

 

Thorin pulled his shirt open and then impatiently raised an enquiring eyebrow.

 

The elven king just looked silently, absorbing the sight of the dark, hairy nipples and the deep, wide navel.  His eyes traced the line of dark hair that pointed like an arrow to a hidden place below the dwarf’s waistband.  “Very nice,” he said.  “Now the breeches.”

 

With an audible tut that made the elf bare his teeth in a voracious grin, Thorin undid his belt and then the buttons of his leather pants.  These he let drop to the floor.

 

“And the small clothes,” Thranduil  murmured softly.

 

An irritated Thorin was about to yank them down when the elf reminded him: “S-l-o-w-l-y!”

 

The dwarf edged them down slowly, as ordered, hooking them with a certain embarrassment over his own erect member.

 

“See,” said Thranduil softly, “you’re enjoying it really.”

 

Thorin snorted dismissively and kicked his underpants into a corner of the room.  Then he began to remove his shirt.

 

“Not yet!” came the order.  “Turn around for me.”

 

“Is this really necessary?” snapped the dwarf.

 

“Yes,” said Thranduil with a wolfish smile.  “Just do it for me.”

 

Thorin turned slowly on the spot and the elven king couldn’t help but groan at the sight of Thorin’s round buttocks peeking out from beneath his shirt: so tempting and almost within touching distance.  

 

“Now you can take off the shirt,” he commented.  “Slowly, remember.  One shoulder at a time.”

 

Thorin slid one of the sleeves off one shoulder, exposing a very powerful arm.  The elf shuddered with desire.  And then the other one came off and, finally, he was completely naked.

 

“Turn for me once more,” came the next request.  “Stand with your back to me.”

 

Thorin turned impatiently.  “How much longer is this going on for?” he asked.

 

“Shush,” said Thranduil, admiring his long, black curls tumbling down his muscular back, the strong legs and those nice, round buttocks.  “Do you know,” he said softly and with a shaky laugh, “that you are the most beautiful, the most delicious creature I have ever seen and that I want to eat you?” And he slid from the bed and, kneeling behind his lover, he sank his sharp white teeth into his behind.

 

“Ow!” yelped Thorin, batting him away, but the elf laughed and, grabbing him by the ankles, brought him down, face-first, upon the marble floor.  Then he slowly rose up his body, covering every inch with kisses, until he was in a position to part his buttocks and thrust into him.

 

“Does it have to be on a cold floor!?” complained Thorin indignantly.

 

“Shush, my love,” whispered the elf into his muscled neck, nipping and sucking his powerful shoulder.  “Just enjoy what I’m about to do to you.”  And one hand reached around to work at Thorin’s stiff erection whilst his own member thrust more and more deeply into him.

 

Apart from the pants and groans, there was silence for a time until suddenly Thorin cried out and Thranduil, increasing the speed of his hand, made sure that they both came together.

 

“Very skilful of me, even though I say it myself,” he murmured smugly as the dwarf collapsed, gasping for breath.

 

“And it would have been more comfortable on a feather bed without all that silly preliminary stuff,” said Thorin tartly.

 

“Would it really?” grinned Thranduil, resting on his forearms and gazing down at him.  “That’s how little you know.  Remind me to give you a few lessons when I have the time about how stimulating it is to examine your lover’s body closely before screwing him on a hard, marble floor.”

 

Thorin pushed the laughing elf off his bruised body and climbed into his nice, feather bed, arranging a few pillows under his hips.  “And if you can be bothered to join me,” he said, “I’ll show you how sensuous nice cotton sheets and soft, plump pillows can be.”

 

Thranduil joined him with alacrity, eager for a demonstration.

 

“Hmm,” he said afterwards.  “Marble floor/mattress; mattress/marble floor.  Seems like I shall need a few more practice runs before I make up my mind.”

 

Thorin laughed and yanked the elf’s slender thigh high up over his hip.  “My turn, now,” he said.

 

.o00o.

 

They were dozing in each other’s arms an hour or so later when Thranduil suddenly said: “I wonder if Dwalin has screwed your sister yet?”

 

“What!?” exclaimed a startled Thorin, raising himself up on one elbow.  “Who?”

 

“Dwalin and Dis,” said Thranduil in surprise.  “It seems pretty obvious to me that on the long road between Erebor and the Iron Hills, something’s bound to have happened.  She’s a frustrated widow after all and it’s about time that Dwalin found someone to fuck.”

 

“What are you talking about?” snorted Thorin.  “They’re friends, nothing more.”  But then he guiltily remembered that he and Dwalin were also friends but that this hadn’t stopped them from getting into bed with each other.  Not that Thranduil knew anything about _that_ , of course.

 

The elf laughed.  “Well, I’d lay bets on it.”

 

But Thorin turned his back on him and, tutting that his partner had a very vivid imagination – “And aren’t you glad about that?” murmured Thranduil, nibbling at his ear - he pretended to go to sleep. But, long after his lover had nodded off, Thorin lay there wondering if Dwalin and Dis were indeed lovers by now.  And he decided that he didn’t like the idea – no, not one bit.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt III

 

Brother or Sister?

 

Dwalin and Dis arrived back in Erebor late the next day.  Thorin looked from one to the other and watched them closely, wondering about a relationship.  Dis was in the throne room - where he had decided to receive her rather coldly - and she knelt before him with her head bowed.  “I’m so sorry, Thorin,” she said quietly, “for all the lies I told Thranduil about you.  My grief has made me do some dreadful things.  Will you show me forgiveness and understanding?”  And she looked up at his face.

 

Thorin rose slowly from his throne and came down the steps towards her.  Then he also knelt before her and clasped her hands.  “We need to forgive each other,” he replied.  And Dis burst into tears and threw her arms about him whilst Thorin warmly returned the embrace.  After that, it seemed like a good time to start from the beginning again.

 

The following week was spent very pleasantly together.  Dwalin and Dis, Thranduil and Thorin all ate and rode and chatted together and Dis, at last, began to understand why her brother had married the elven king.  Dwalin made them all laugh with stories about Dain and Dis admitted that she had considered him as a potential husband.  “Surely not?” gasped Thorin.  “I’m afraid I wouldn’t have granted my permission.”

 

“Do I still need your permission to get married?” demanded Dis indignantly.

 

“Now that you ask,” responded her brother, “I don’t actually know.  You’ll have to ask Balin.”

 

“I will,” she said, “just in case I decide to get married again.”  And she gave Dwalin a surreptitious look that didn’t pass Thorin’s notice.

 

That night, as he lay in Thranduil’s arms, Thorin said: “I think you were right about Dis and Dwalin.  They keep looking at each other.  I reckon that they might even be thinking about marriage.”

 

The elf gave a great shout of laughter.  “I didn’t think it would get as far as that,” he exclaimed.  “What a couple they will make!”  Then, when Thorin remained silent, he asked: “And what do you think about such a possibility?”

 

Thorin couldn’t tell his lover the complete truth but he offered: “I’m not quite sure.  It seems a bit odd when we’ve all been friends for so long.   And the thought of Dwalin with my sister……”  And his voice trailed off.

 

“Yes, just think about it!” Thranduil guffawed.  And he stroked Thorin’s cheek which was still only sparsely covered by a beard ever since Dwalin had agreed to shave it off for him.  “You know,” the elven king grinned, “with the lights turned down or from behind with all your flowing hair, you and your sister could be mistaken for each other.” Then he roared with laughter once more.  “I’m just thinking,” he explained, “that when he’s fucking your sister, Dwalin must sometimes imagine that he’s fucking you!”  And he wiped the tears from his eyes.

 

And yes, that was one of Thorin’s concerns.  He tried to be really, really honest with himself but found he couldn’t.  Was he unhappy about Dwalin sleeping with Dis because he was being a dog in the manger?  Was he possessive about Dwalin’s love for him and was he reluctant for the big dwarf to give it to anyone else?  Or was he worried about Dwalin’s motives?  He couldn’t laugh at Thranduil’s joke because he thought it a distinct possibility that his friend would be thinking of him when he fucked his sister.  And that was so unfair on Dis.  She deserved someone who could love her fully and completely and he doubted, after all these years of Dwalin’s passion for his king, that this was what she would get from him.

 

But Thranduil had now rolled on top of him, breathing heavily and planting kisses all over his face and throat.  “Shall I screw you and pretend that you’re Dis,” he was murmuring in the dwarf’s ear.

 

“What?” said a distracted Thorin.

 

“Ah, Dis, Dis,” the elf was moaning, running his hands through the dwarf’s luxurious curls.  His member was rock-hard against Thorin’s stomach and, suddenly, the dwarf felt such a revulsion that he threw his lover off and, picking up his clothing from the floor, began to get dressed. 

 

“That’s disgusting,” he snarled.

 

“It was only a joke,” protested Thranduil in surprise.

 

“Yes, I must say your erection felt exactly like a joke,” was the caustic reply.  Then when he saw the elf begin to rise from the bed, he snapped, “Don’t follow me.  I need some time to think things through.”  And he hurried from the room leaving a rather puzzled elven king behind him. 

 

It was late but Thorin needed to see Balin straight away.  This minute. 

 

This very minute.  

 

He banged on his counsellor’s door and found him still up, looking at maps.  “Working out the best route to Moria,” he explained.  He was still fixated on that idea, thought the king in passing.

 

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” said Thorin, taking a seat, “but I thought it best to talk to you before things come to a head.”  Balin passed him a glass of wine.  “It’s Dwalin and Dis,” he continued.  “They’re in a relationship and I think they’re moving towards marriage.”

 

Balin passed a weary hand across his forehead.  “What’s wrong with this family?” he asked.  “Why can’t you live your lives in a straight line instead of taking sudden and unexpected turnings?”

 

Thorin grinned.  “Don’t you want your brother to marry a princess?” he asked.

 

“Not when such a marriage could throw a million spanners in the works,” was the grunted response.

 

“Such as?” asked Thorin curiously.  The more spanners the better, as far as he was concerned.

 

“Well,” said Balin, “they would need your permission to get married and, if you’re not inclined to give it – and I have a feeling you may not be – that could cause an awful lot of bad feeling.  Wars have been started over less.”  And he cocked a canny eye at his king.

 

“And then, of course,” he continued, “much more seriously, Dis isn’t quite past child-bearing age.  What if Dwalin were to have a son?  An heir of Durin through both the male and female line?  You’ve already come to an agreement with Dain that his son will inherit the throne.  You’ve signed contracts.  Everything is all neat and tidy and everyone’s happy.  A baby might create another reason for a war.”

 

Thorin felt concerned.  He hadn’t thought of that one.

 

“And, finally,” said Balin quietly, leaning towards Thorin, “my brother has loved you all his life and I don’t believe his feelings will ever change.  Dis will find out in the end.  Better that she finds out now rather than after they have married.”

 

“And how did _you_ find out?” asked Thorin sharply.

 

Balin waved a dismissive hand.  “I didn’t ‘find out’,” he snorted.  “I just know.  I’ve known for years.  It just shines out of him every time he looks at you.  Thank goodness you’ve always kept him at arm’s length or things would be a hundred times worse.”

 

Thorin glanced guiltily at him from under long, dark lashes.

 

“By Mahal!” Balin exclaimed angrily.  “You’re both bigger fools than I thought!  How long ago did this happen?”

 

“Recently,” muttered the dwarf.

 

The old counsellor groaned.  “Does Thranduil know?”

 

“Of course not!” snapped Thorin.  “It was a stupid moment after I thought that he had left me.  He must never know!”

 

“Well,” said Balin calmly, “this is how I see it going: Dis will realise that Dwalin doesn’t love her but loves you instead.  Then she will take her revenge by storming off and telling Thranduil.  And, if Thranduil doesn’t kill you, he will pack his bags and leave for Mirkwood and you will never see him again.”

 

Yes, Thorin could imagine this all happening.  And he dropped his head into his hands with a groan.  “What shall I do?” he finally asked.

 

“Stop them from marrying but, in such a way, that they will both think it’s a good idea.  Now, have another drink whilst I ponder on it.”  And, with a look of resignation, Balin packed all his lovely maps away.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt IV

 

To Marry or Not?

 

Balin tussled with the problem for some time whilst Thorin sat and fidgeted.  Finally, he looked up and said: “I’m sure that one or both of them will visit me soon.  Just go home and leave things up to me.”

 

“Is there nothing I can do?” asked the king.

 

“Well,” said Balin, cocking his head to one side, “if you’ve had words with Thranduil, I think you ought to smooth things over, don’t you, and be glad that you have someone to love and someone to love you?”

 

It was the early hours of the morning when Thorin got back to his bedroom.  Thranduil was fast asleep, sprawled on his back, with one arm raised above his head.  Thorin slid in beside him and, in the dim light of a lamp, he marvelled at his fey, elven beauty.  How could such a creature be in love with him?  He put his arms around the elf and rolled him towards him.  And then he kissed him long and tenderly on the lips.  Thranduil’s eyes opened and he said sleepily: “Now, what have I done to deserve that?”

 

“Nothing,” replied Thorin, “except to love me.”

 

“That was the easy bit,” murmured Thranduil before falling back to sleep.

 

.o00o.

 

Almost on cue, Dwalin came to visit his brother the next morning.  He shuffled his feet, sat down, stood up, cleared his throat and wandered around the room.  “Oh, do get on with it!” urged Balin.

 

“Well, you see,” said Dwalin gruffly, “it’s about Dis.  I’m wondering if I should marry her.”

 

His brother poured him a large drink.  “Sit down and stop fidgeting about,” he said.

 

The big dwarf gulped down the goblet of wine and then muttered: “We developed a relationship on the way back from the Iron Hills.  She’s lonely; I’ve got no-one and we’ve always got along.  So, what do you think about me marrying her?”

 

Balin gave his brother a very steady look.  “If you loved her, you wouldn’t have to ask.”

 

“But, I think that now we’ve – you know – she thinks we ought to tie the knot.”

 

“But, what do _you_ think?” asked Balin.

 

Dwalin just stared at his feet.

 

“Shall I spell it out?” said the old dwarf.

 

“Yes, please,” was Dwalin’s quiet reply.

 

“You love Thorin…..”

 

Dwalin’s head snapped up.

 

“…..You have always loved Thorin.  And you always will love Thorin.  And one day, if you get married, you will be making love to Dis and you will call out his name.  It will destroy her.”

 

Dwalin sat there for a long time, lost in thought.  And then he sighed and said, “Thank you, brother,” before making his exit from the room.

 

.o00o.

_Always tell the truth.……or as much of it as possible_ , was Balin’s motto.  But, when a happy and smiling Dis came knocking on his door a bit later that morning, it made the conversation between them all the more difficult.

 

“I’ve come to check if I still need Thorin’s permission to get married……to your brother,” she added with a grin.

 

“Well, actually, you do – and that could be a problem,” was the response.

 

Her face fell.  “In what way?” she asked grumpily.

 

“Dwalin has always been Thorin’s right hand man – they have been together all their lives.  And now you plan to take him away to Ered Luin.”

 

Dis paced the room angrily.  “Well, he’s got you and he’s got Thranduil.  Aren’t you two enough?”

 

“And there’s another reason,” continued Balin gently.  “My brother is – how can I put it? – a man’s man.”

 

“Of course he is,” smiled Dis.  “He’s strong and virile and masculine.  A good reason to get married, I would think.”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” said Balin, looking at her straight in the eye.

 

Dis stopped her pacing.

 

“Dwalin has loved Thorin all his life…….”

 

“Of course he does.  We all love him,” she snapped, trying to stave off the words that were coming so relentlessly.

 

“But Dwalin loves Thorin as a man loves a woman,” he continued.

 

Dis looked horrified.  “You don’t mean…?  Has something happened between them?”

 

“No, of course not,” said Balin, lying in his teeth.  “Thorin knows nothing of this and he must never know.  But Dwalin’s love for him is for all time.”

 

A distressed Dis wrung her hands.  “But I could make him love me.”

 

“Could you?” asked Balin quietly.  “Or would you be condemning your marriage to a certain death?”

 

Dis dropped her head in defeat.  “Thank you for telling me this,” she whispered.  “I am glad that I knew before I took an irreversible step.”  And she quietly left the room.

 

.o00o.

 

Thorin and Thranduil watched from the battlements of Erebor as Dis rode away with her dwarven escort.  “She kissed Dwalin very warmly when they parted,” said Thranduil, “and invited him to visit her in Ered Luin.  But, no marriage appears to be on the cards.”

 

“No,” answered Thorin, wondering what Balin had said to them.  “Perhaps they decided that they weren’t suited after all.”

 

“Shame,” said the elven king.  “Everyone should have someone to love.”

 

“She loved Vili,” was Thorin’s answer.

 

“But, who does Dwalin  love?” asked the elf.

 

Thorin felt a moment of panic until he realised that this was just a rhetorical question.  Yes, Dwalin had someone to love and he loved him back.  But, more than anyone or anything, he loved Thranduil and so Dwalin would always be alone.

 

That night in bed, as the elf king cuddled into him and nuzzled his throat, Thorin was filled with guilt.  He didn’t know what Balin had said to his brother or to Dis, but he and his advisor had conspired together to bring an end to the relationship between their siblings.  It probably wouldn’t have worked – it might have ended in a painful disaster:  but, who knew?  Surely they should have been given a chance without any interference?

 

Thranduil was holding him close now and kissing him on the lips.  Thorin knew what it was to be loved and to feel safe within the circle of someone’s arms.  Perhaps his sister and his friend would find such a love in the end and experience what he was feeling now.  Until then, this was just another burden of guilt for him to bear.

 

Thorin sighed. “Don’t be sad,” said Thranduil.  “I hate it when you’re sad.  The lives of men and dwarves are much too short to waste it in melancholy.”  And then he grinned.  “Shall I cheer you up?” he asked, sliding a finger into him.

 

Thorin wrapped a silken strand of the elf’s hair around his fingers before succumbing with a groan to the delightful pressure.  Yes, this was the way.  He would forget everything in a bout of mind-numbing love-making and then he would fall into the oblivion of a deep sleep.  And, perhaps, when he woke up tomorrow, things would seem to be an awful lot better than they did at the moment.

 

.o00o.

 

_Sorry to finish my latest round of Thorinduil stories on a despondent note but I hope you’ve enjoyed them.  Perhaps the third and final film in a few weeks’ time will inspire me to write another set of stories, and, hopefully, they will be a bit more amusing, even with all the gloom and doom of PJ’s ‘defining chapter’.  Thank you for your support._

_Most recent stories, in order: The Kings and the Divorce, The Kings and the Aunty, The Kings and the Forges, The Kings: Top or Bottom?, The Kings and Lady Dis._

 

                                               

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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